


The Looming

by Ebay_Garfield



Category: Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Looming, Podfic Welcome, my interpretation of Gallifreyan looming (birth)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 20:20:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17290739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ebay_Garfield/pseuds/Ebay_Garfield
Summary: Far far away from Earth, before it was ever smashed into existence, it’s protector was born in a tank.





	The Looming

Most of the very little light within the warehouse came more from the rows and rows of giant glowing tanks rather than the dim greyish blue lights hanging from the ceiling, flickering every so often. The cold cement floor was also wet and grimy. Turquoise light emanated from the glass windows of cylinder-shaped tanks, and inside those tanks were bodies. Some small, some big, some tall and others short. But they were all young. Very young. And all unconscious.

 

At the very bottom of the stacked cylinder-shaped tanks stood two figures. An adolescent boy with a lanky frame, and a rigidly built man. The man stood with his hands crossed behind his back. He was uniformed in a dark purple tunic with thick and practical boots. The boy was more smartly dressed than his elder, with his red and black tunic and silver chain that dangled around his neck, a symbol dangling from it over his chest. His own boots were slender, red, and reached his knees. Draped over his shoulder was a thick brown towel.

 

“Is it time?” He asked impatiently. “If you’d like. I was merely providing you with minutes to spare to prepare yourself.” The man replied and grasped the side of the tank. A panel popped out of the metal. “You don’t have any family that would like to witness this?” He inquired airily as he pressed some buttons.

 

“He will become a member of the House of Lungbarrow. We are great in number. We do not see it as necessary to be present at ones looming. I am here only because he must be retrieved by an adult member of the house.” The boy recited coldly. The man scoffed under his breath. “Adult member of the house...” He muttered as the tank emitted some mechanical whirring noises and began to rise upright from a slightly backwards-tilted position. “Rich families. Won’t even be present at the looming of their own children. Or “ _Members_ ”...” He muttered crossly.

 

Suddenly the glowing liquid inside of the tank began to recede. The body inside sank until its feet planted firmly on the ground. The body inside was still unconscious, however, so the glass door popped open quickly with a hiss and the body flopped out. Straight into the arms of the boy. Greenish liquid gushed out of the opened tank and soaked the boots of the boy, but he did not notice as he struggled to uphold the new weight of the younger body in his arms.

 

It was a boy. Pale, naked, and glistening with a goopy green substance. He was thin and angular like his brother, but had shaggy blond curls rather than the straight and dark brown hair his brother favoured. The viscous slime that covered him also matted his thick hair into sections that stuck to his head and dripped down the nape of his neck. He was limp in his brother’s arms and they slid to the floor despite it’s filth. The older boy gently cradled his new brother in his arms. He stared down in to his face. The man approached the pair and crouched beside them. He fished out a syringe from his pocket and jabbed the younger boy in the flank with it.

 

Blue eyes flew wide open and he gasped for air. His brother stared down in to his face and shifted him in his arms so that he could raise a palm and brush away some of the filthy curls from his eyes. The young boy heaved for air and began to shiver in the cold. His skin was clammy. His breath came in shudders and gasps. His brother shrugged the towel off of his shoulder and shimmied it into his free hand so that he could drape it over the body of his brother. He grabbed him by the sides and sat him upright while he adjusted the towel to cover most of his body.

 

“Nnhg, nh-ah.” He choked out with wide eyes.

“Shh shh shh. Don’t try to talk. It’s admirable that you’re already trying, but your vocal chords won’t fully develop until twenty-four hours out of the loom.” He muttered as he stroked his brother’s filthy curls. Despite the warning, the young boy mumbled syllabic nonsense into his chest.

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea stuck in my head for a while and I really wanted to write it. It was a lot of fun!


End file.
